Chronicles of the Grim Fist, Part III

  1. The players agree with you. Since I put a fair amount of work into it, I’m gratified on both fronts.

  2. Galswintha is going to court that 15% guaranteed chance of horrible fate like it’s going out of style, I think. Merideth has thus far refused to be drawn in.

The options are:

  1. Die and restore a bunch of times and pray.
  2. There is said to be a type of cursed item which alters gender. Find one.
  3. Get a wish.

On the latter, I house ruled that wish is a level-11 ritual spell. The only way to acquire it is via radical experimentation, a formula, or by petitioning someone who already has the secret of it.

So Galswintha and Chlodomer have been negotiating, based on the risks Galswintha will have to take. When they hammer out a deal, it will probably happen within a few months game-time - Galswintha is no slouch in the research department.

It’s also possible they will find another wish item. Or persuade Wordthief.

I don’t think Galswintha can manage it, even without slouching - a level-11 ritual spell gives a 14th-level caster with 18 INT and the finest library in the land a final throw value of (3+, -3 INT, -3 library, +11 ritual) 8+. To get a revolutionary breakthrough requires a roll of 28+, and radical experimentation only brings that down to 22+.

You could set the “cost” at level 10.5, and put an intermediate +1.5 spell level result between “major” and “revolutionary,” and that would be achievable.

An 11th level caster will have a final throw of (6+, -3 INT, -3 library, +10* ritual, -6 radical) 4+, and would manage a “major plus” breakthrough on a 19+.

  • Assuming we round down on that whole 10.5 thing.

Hmmm. Assuming that one agrees that Wish, as written, is an 11th level spell effect, then you don't need to get a revolutionary breakthrough to get it - you simply need to research an 11th level spell. That would require (as you note) an 8+.

A revolutionary breakthrough would be required if one were attempting to make a 9th level spell effect (say, "Limited Wish"). The difficulty would be 6+. To get a radical breakthrough requires a roll of 26+, which with radical experimentation becomes 20+, e.g. roll a natural 20. Then one would raise the spell's level by 2, from 9th level effectively to 11th level effectively.

In other ways, if you want to make Wish rare, the way to do is not to make it a spell that can be researched at 11th level, but rather to say that it's an 11th level effect that can only be achieved by getting a radical breakthrough while researching a 9th level spell.

I hope that made sense!

I think you and Cameron were on the same page, and I was off in the bushes somewhere.

Regarding wishes, I’ll just post in the House Rules forum regarding my thoughts, and look for advice there.

OOC: Not a long session, and I have had a busy week, so, kind of short update.

Session 35
Month 11
Merideth begins throwing the portion of her tithes that count as level income into the party pot. This … is not as large a contribution as those who argued for it had hoped. Still, it helps.

Population 44,500. Profits 208,000 gp (before cliffside costs).

A thousand-foot-high, continuous stairway snakes its way up the tepui cliffside. A war galley has been lifted up a 200-foot shaft and placed onto a stand by sheer human effort. Three thousand soldiers pat themselves on the back.

… and the rulers of Galaufabonne realize: it still has to be lowered a thousand more feet down the cliff and transported home. They decide to leave it there.

… and Galswintha asks to examine it before they leave. So Chlodomer and Vulfelind hang out as protection, and Merideth wanders the shoreline looking for monsters.

Galswintha first gets a full list of knobs and levers and bits:

(OOC: The players were stunned: I'd actually done some prep work.)
  • Captain's Chair
    • A large pulley attached to a horn-like contraption in the ceiling.
    • A control panel, from left to right:
      • A keyhole, large red switch (down), and pulley.
      • Three switches (all down): "fore," "aft," and "aft broad."
      • Twelve numbered switches numbered 1-12 (all down).
      • Three identical knobs in a vertical line. Each has a black line across them, currently horizontal.
      • A long lever arm (0 degrees horizontal) with two crossbow-like triggers and a feather decoration.
      • A long lever arm (36 degrees up) with one crossbow-like trigger and a reed decoration.
      • Three small key switches covered by removable bells: red, black, and green.
  • Each catapult:
    • A horizontal wheel.
    • A vertical wheel with cubits marked along the outer edge.
    • A single heavy-duty returning lever.
Then she wanders around the ship. She asks about the angles of rudder and sails. She paces out the ropes. She looks under the rower benches and finds cabling.

She crawls into a catapult … and turns a knob. It refuses to budge.

She returns to the captain’s chair and tries to turn the middle of the three vertical knobs. It refuses to budge.

She wanders back out and looks for a power source, and finds a crystal she thinks might be the source … but there’s nothing wrong with the crystal that she can see. She calls Vulfelind over to pick the keyhole on the far left.

Vulfelind: “So what will this do?”
Galswintha: “It’s a secret.”

She picks the lock anyway, and turns it. Nothing happens.

Galswintha flips the big red switch to (up). Nothing happens.

She flips switches, discovers that the knobs still don’t budge, and almost (almost!) releases one of the bell covers.

Then Vulfelind hauls on the far-left pulley.

An enormous clatter. A sputtering sound. Galswintha and Vulfelind share a half-second grin, grab the pulley together, and put their backs into it. Another sputter.

Chlodomer and Merideth are crowding into the cabin, “WHAT THE FIVE HELLS ARE YOU TWO GIRLS DOING?”

They haul on it again. The sputter turns into a roar. The ship rocks slightly. A soft glow begins to light up behind the switches.

Galswintha cackles maniacally … and then everyone hears splintering sounds outside. Vulfelind immediately starts flipping switches back to (down) and the sound subsides. Several of the ship’s oars (but fortunately not the rowers) are broken - they weren’t built for dry land.

They decide to not leave the ship after all.

Month 12
Population 46,000. Profits 212,000 gp (before cliffside costs).

Merideth finishes her final Harvest casting - the entire Realm of Galaufabonne is now at +2 land value - and begins researching Resurrection (throw 9+, 14 weeks, and 7,000 gp).

Galswintha begins researching “lesser wish” as a 9th level spell with Radical experimentation (throw 4+, 9,000 gp, 18 weeks).

the Grim Fist clears the area of the cliffs and the path north of all lairs, and puts the smallest valid fortresses into place to hold the areas, then fishes through the northern edge of the lake to make sure no obvious monsters lurk.

And then they bring in civilian laborers to begin the task of lowering the entire ship, intact, down the thousand-foot cliff. And while the initial construction of the bridging and ropes needed is occurring, they repair the damage they did discovering that the ship’s devices still worked.

The two dragons, Agape and Agathon, make pests of themselves. They attempt to hold the elfmaid hostage for their freedom (er, you guys know that this elemental is my ally, right?). They attempt to sneak out. They sabotage one of the vertical bridges. … and then they eat a peasant who wanders too near.

The last is the final straw. Chlodomer passes judgement … and then looks disconcerted: breaking the fealty oath works both ways. The dragons lose their blue halo and are immediately alerted.

The second fight with the dragons, newly desparate to escape, is harder, but the Grim Fist prevails. The dragons are slain. … and Chlodomer is significantly happier about her blue halo.

The ship, however, is still up a cliff with new paddles.

Session 36
Year 1308
Months 1, 2, and 3, Winter
Final population 51,750, profits 623,326 gp. Merideth levels again as she finally catches up to where a cleric should be with the party XP average … and stops leveling on the current income again.

Merideth fails to research Resurrection and starts over (will finish at end of month 5).

Galswintha successfully researches Permanency in month 1! She immediately begins researching a new spell:

No Stone. Immune to flesh to stone and to all petrification effects. Affects one creature (who must be touched; attack roll required in combat) for one turn. Level 2 mage spell.
And completes it in month 2. And then she begins researching an item (which will complete in month 9):
Stone Charm. This bracelet charm protects the wearer from being turned to stone. Base cost 50,000 GP.

The rulers of Galaufabonne pacify three new hexes in month 1, and two new hexes in each of month 2 and 3. None of the lairs I rolled were particularly challenging - I may be hand-crafting some hexes soon.

They also, miraculously, manage to get the ship down the cliff intact … and then transported home, where they store the ship in picturesque fashion just outside Bone Temple (on a stand high enough to avoid the oars hitting ground).

Then the party begins experimenting with the controls, a bit more cautiously this time, and manages to work out many of the details:

  • All switches follow this rule: "Down" is off/locked, "up" is active/unlocked.
  • The horn-like contraption is a loudspeaker.
  • The keyhole, large switch, and pulley are all needed to activate the ship.
  • The three switches (fore, aft, and aft broad) lock/unlock the catapults.
  • The twelve numbered switches activate rowers in lots of 25 (sets of five benches).
  • The three black-line knobs individually rotate the sail masts. Pushing a knob causes the sail to roll up; push again, it rolls back down.
  • The lever arm with two triggers ... does not appear to do anything.
  • The single-trigger lever arm adjusts the rudder.
  • The removable bells ... they leave alone, on the premise that one of them may be a self-destruct switch.

The catapults have more self-explanatory controls, and the entire party indulges in some target practice outside the city.

“Now,” says Lady Chlodomer, grinning, “We just have to get it to an ocean.”

As Spring begins, the Grim Fist decides to tackle the entire 3-hex tepui.

Month 4, Tepui West (#0707)
Population 53,000, profits 216,000 gp.

They clear out a manticore, a pack of brigands, a hill giant gang, crocodiles and giant pythons, a lost trader (whom they helpfully assist back to the Highway), and a flight of giant hawks (whom they befriend).

… and then they stumble across an NPC party: two fighters, a thief, and a mage, who claim that they were clearing the mesa and the Grim Fist can go toss themselves off a cliff somewhere. They also helpfully point at the nearby cliff the Grim Fist can use.

The NPCs have a small army with them; the Grim Fist has Merideth’s knights and a few other retainers. The Grim Fist fails to be intimidated. Chlodomer elects to try to intimidate them … and completely blows the roll.

It had to happen someday.

Merideth and her knights handle the retainers and mercenaries. The outcome is never in doubt.

Vulfelind pounces the enemy thief … and this outcome has very little doubt.

Chlodomer takes on both fighters to protect Galswintha, and gets her butt handed to her - both fighters are higher level, and one has a girdle of giant strength. Chlodomer does her best to draw the fight out and survive her role as punching bag until the others can help.

And Galswintha … the enemy mage uses a prepared ritual spell to permanently polymorph her into a rabbit. And then casts Charm Animal. And then begins casting support spells against Chlodomer.

Chlodomer goes down and the two fighters move in to help the thief defeat Vulfelind - a mistake, as it turns out, because Vulfelind finishes killing the thief and retreats, cracking open a scroll of dispel magic on Galswintha.

Galswintha screams incoherently and tackles (tackles!) and pins the mage … and then breathes dragonfire directly into his face. The pinned scholar dies ugly.

The two enemy fighters glance at each other, shrug, and split up: Mr. Giant Strength to kill Vulfelind, the other Galswintha. Vulfelind plays mouse, tantalizingly within reach despite her superior movement rate.

Galswintha takes a solid hit, breathes fire, takes a second solid hit (at which point the enemy fighter gets a pained look), and breathes fire for the third time. The fighter dies in melee combat with a mage.

And then Merideth, finished routing the mercenaries, comes pounding back in to heal Chlodomer (who gets up as if nothing happened) … and the whole party stomps the final fighter into paste.

Chlodomer can’t fit herself into the girdle of giant strength fast enough.

With the NPC party out of the way, they scout further and find a collection of lizardman villages scattered amidst a vast complex of stone ruins at the western edge of the fog-shrouded lake. They retreat to plot and plan.

Just posting the usual “this is awesome, yada yada yada” post. The system looks good and fun, but your campaign shows what it can really do, and I am inspired!

“The fighter dies in melee combat with a mage.”

Beautiful.

I’m hoping for a holy war with the lizardman kingdom, who were worshipping the dragons as gods.

Heh. Close. Much was revealed this session, and I ended on a cliffhanger.

Session 37
Month 5
Population 54,000, profits 220,000 gp. Vulfelind finally levels!

Galswintha is 11th; Chlodomer and Vulfelind are 12th; Merideth is 13th. With their shared profit system, Galswintha earns XP at more than 160,000 gp. Chlodomer and Vulfelind need the duchy to produce more than 240,000 gp per month. Merideth needs it to earn, er, more than 600,000 gp per month - for Merideth, adventuring and research is the only way until Galaufabonne is MUCH larger.

Galswintha has her apprentices identify items … and discovers that the four amethyst cylinder seals they’ve been sitting on for the last ten months are wishes granted by a djinni prince.

Chlodomer squeals delightedly and immediately begins rummaging through her wardrobes.

Galswintha hrms, and asks questions about how djinn compare to efreet. We come up with these answers:

Genies all form caliphates under princes, are hidebound and conservative, and are bureaucratic masters of twisted wording.

Efreet: Fire elementals. Chaotic. Wicked and ruthless, they delight in the pain of others and the destruction of value, and are infamous for their twisted wishes. When Galswintha asks whether the fungal attraction to Galaufabonne and the purple worm migrations toward Galaufabonne are a side effect of her wish for prosperity, the Judge tells her she can take a month to research that.

Djinn: Air elementals. Neutral. They blow this way and that, and may be wicked or benevolent by individual dictates or whim. They are difficult to bind, because their nature changes!

Madrid: Water elementals. Neutral. Known for stormy tempers, but generally benevolent otherwise. Very, very difficult to summon without enraging; an enraged madrid tends to destroy things on arrival.

Dao: Earth elementals. Lawful. Extremely strict, forbidding, and autocratic. Will serve faithfully if bound, and their wishes are the most trusted of genies, but adherence to Law makes them the most difficult to bind at all.

When Chlodomer returns, breathless and flushed and armed with her old male clothing, Galswintha activates the first seal. A djinn prince appears, tall and handsome, and bows before Galswintha, his forehead and both palms touching the floor, then stands and stares at her, “You are not He who bound My Word.”

Galswintha: No.
Djinn: How did you come by His Seal?
Chlodomer, silk-smooth: She recovered it from His ship, lost for centuries.
Djinn: I see. Indeed, it has been some time.
Djinn, to Galswintha: My bound Word is in your hands. I would have It back.
Galswintha: Do I get a wish first?
Djinn, sighing: Please do not anger me. I would hate to destroy such a pretty little thing.
Galswintha, face reddening: …
Chlodomer: Her proper title, O Prince of Djinn, is Wizard, 12th Order.
Djinn: Oh.
Djinn, to Galswintha: My most abject apologies, Mistress. What is Your wish?

Moments later, Chlodomer is once again a man, the cylinder seal crumbles to dust, and the djinn prince returns home.

They set the remaining three aside for later discussion while they plan their next assault on Tepui West. Galswintha puts them in her pouch, just in case.

Tepui Overview

A tepui is a tall and vast mesa, often characterized by its own ecology and weather. This one is larger than most. The cliff-sides are thick with caves, ravines, chimneys, and falls; and the ancient remnants of thousand-foot stairways. One of those stairways was rebuilt by the Grim Fist.

The tepui is moist and humid, with daily showers, constant mist and clouds, year-round streams and waterfalls, and a heated lake fed by underwater geysers.

The majority of the lake is in the northern hex. A hilly, cave-riddled, mossy cloud forest covers the rest. The three hexes are Tepui Lake (#0807), Tepui South (#0808), and Tepui West (#0707).

Tepui Lake probably has an island. The Grim Fist has not yet dared the fog.

Tepui West has the highest elevated terrain, with stone ruins rising in concentric arcs away from the lake. There are several visible objects:

  • Some landmarks that they can only see because they know to look:
    • The hill/cavern the two manticores were living in.
    • The cleared patch where they found the brigands.
    • The ashes of the hill giant gang's campfire.
  • Concentric partial circles of stone ruin.
  • The lower two-thirds of an obese humanoid sitting cross-legged. One pair of arms rests across the thighs, the hands (and whatever they were holding) broken off; a second arm on the left is held out, elbow bent and palm open upwards; and a second arm on the right is broken at the elbow. Even without the upper shoulders and head, the seated statue rises some 60 feet above the surrounding forest canopy (the crosslegged thighs are of a height with the trees).
  • What appears to be several ship wrecks, grown over with trees and moss.
  • A sunken entrance to what may be a vast cavern.
  • Two lizardman villages along the lakeshore, separated by a few miles, with a dirt path between, and an additional path each further into the jungle.

Tepui South has the median height terrain (between the lake and the hills of West), and no sign of any major civilization ever having existed beneath its canopy … although it may have been any of a number of less permanent structures, such as farms. The visible objects:

  • One lizardman village at the shore, with trail into canopy.
  • A giant, moss-covered chiquinib oak, of a size with the Galaufchulis tree, but in poor health. And instead of rocs or pegasi, lizardmen have established a vertical village cut into the bark, a hollow hole is visible in the side, and giant lizards of some sort scurry along the outer portions.
  • A single moss-covered ship wreck.
  • A crude, lashed-rope bridge across a chasm.
  • A crude pyramid of tree trunks topped by the skull of a giant humanoid.

Village North-on-Water

The party decides to tackle the northernmost village, on the strength of an argument from Vulfelind: if they have to run away, they don't have to run past the other village.

Vulfelind, her invisible canoe, and Team Thief move into position above. Galswintha and Team Mage stay a cautious distance out, ready to move in. Chlodomer, Merideth, and Merideth’s Cavalry ride into the village to give the lizardmen a chance to leave without a fight.

There are 300 standard lizardmen in the village. 375 females. 60 champions. 13 warband leaders. And their chief - a sixth-level Thrassian gladiator with a vicious temper and a cruel streak. The biggest problem, however, is the Thrassian’s wives, who bear the marks of that temper, and thus make a peaceful resolution unlikely.

Chlodomer: HUH.
Merideth: Indeed.
Chlodomer: Don’t signal the girls.
Merideth, looking down at herself: …
Chlodomer: You’re a knight.
Merideth: Fair enough.
Chlodomer: Okay, komodo breath, here’s the deal. I’m going to chop you into tiny, teeny little pieces, and your people can choose to leave peacefully or not.

The Thrassian takes a long look at Chlodomer’s quality of gear, his aura of power, and the circlet on the ducal brow … and gargles a command to his people. Who fail to move.

The shaman clears his throat, “I think you two work it out. I think we talk with winner.”

The Thrassian takes one more long look, then sprints for the lake shore … and bangs his head on the underside of an invisible canoe before a werefox and her crew appear in the midst of a backstab. The Thrassian is a corpse before he knows what happened.

Chlodomer: HUH.
Merideth: Indeed.

There are some complications. The fifteen wives of the Thrassian now consider Chlodomer their owner, and the village considers him their Chief … and as long as he remains Chief, they will happily remain “loyal” to Galaufabonne.

Galswintha and the lizardman shaman sit down in the medicine lodge to discuss the situation. When she returns, the Grim Fist has a better idea of what’s going on:

There are roughly five thousand lizardmen (1,000 families) hunting, gathering, looting, gardening, and "farming" in the three hexes of the tepui, plus four villages (the three small lakeshore ones with around 75+ families, and the larger giant tree one with around 250 families). It is technically a "civilized" Chaotic domain.

The Chief of Chiefs who rules the four villages and related tribes is not really powerful enough to hold everything together by himself … but he doesn’t have to be, because the Serpent King backs his claim to the position.

The Serpent King guards a terrible maze of catacombs, and is some sort of snake-bodied lizardman necromancer of terrifying power. The Serpent King also has servants other than the Chief of Chiefs: a mist-colored dragon; a giant human shadow (“the night walker”); an immortal warrior of some sort; and an awful creature of metal and glowing crystals that few have seen.

None of the villages like the Chief of Chiefs. They would much rather be allowed to murder and pillage and eat sentients without paying a vassal tax for the privilege.

But no worries: all of the Chiefs meet with the Chief of Chiefs once every seven days, so Chlodomer won’t have to wait long to get properly involved in the local politics.

The Grim Fist take advantage of the momentary respite and hospitality to explore the area this village controls. Chlodomer fends off the advances of fifteen slave lizardwomen. Vulfelind has a long, private conversation with Wordthief. Galswintha discusses the local politics with the shaman.

Merideth tries to not kill anyone.

Village Above-the-Cloud

A few days later, it is time to meet the Chief of Chiefs. Chlodomer puts on the ceremonial headress, and the Grim Fist and lizardman shaman walk the path to the Great Tree and then up the creaking and poorly-shaped stairs. Galswintha, long-accustomed to living and dwelling in such a tree, notes that it is in far worse condition than it looked previously. She fingers one of the amethyst cylinder seals in her pouch, then shakes her head.

Near the top, the shaman announces Chlodomer as the new Chief by succession.

The Chief of Chiefs stomps over and sniffs him.

CoC: A human?
Shaman: This human is strong.
CoC: This I would see for myself.

The Chief of Chiefs drags out a shaking lizardman, and speaks to it in hissing tones. Finally, it nods, and bares fangs and claws at Chlodomer, then leaps at the human, howling with rage.

Chlodomer lets the claws scratch uselessly on his armor, then wraps one ogre-and-giant-empowered hand around the lizardman’s throat, lifts it bodily, and tosses the lizardman off the tree. To the Chief of Chiefs, he says merely, “Let me know when you are ready to test my strength, and I will do my best.”

Chief of Chiefs grabs four more warriors in ill favor, and sends them against Chlodomer, who draws his sword and in one smooth motion, cleaves through all four, then yawns.

The Chief of Chiefs harumphs again, but lets it stand, and then states that the formal meeting will occur in the lodge in one hour, and then stomps away into the tree’s hollow. The other Chiefs look nervous.

A few minutes later, a dragon with palest blue scales crawls out of the hollow with the Chief of Chiefs, 18 feet long and winged. Its eyes glow briefly, then it gives a dry chuckle, and in quite elegant Frankish, “If I may hazard a guess? You are the individuals who slew Agape and Agathon?”

Chlodomer admits that this is true, hand on sword, and the dragon laughs, “Oh, most excellent. If I may advise? You may be wondering if you have gotten yourself in too deep - and you have - but my mistress would speak to you, and perhaps offer you an alliance rather than a conflict. Would you, perhaps, be willing to accompany me to speak with her?”

The Catacombs of the Serpent King

The party is escorted to the base of the vast multi-armed, headless statue, which turns out to be constructed on a fortress of substantial craft. They are brought therein to a courtyard, and then a Great Hall ...

… and all but Chlodomer are instantly paralyzed at the sight of Her.

Her face is heart-stoppingly beautiful … and terrible beyond words. Dread washes over the room as She surveys it. Her skin is palest jade and her flesh perfect, but Her arms end in lizardman forearms and claws. Her smile is fanged. Her eyes are jet black, with amber hints of lambent light. Her lower torso is a coiled constrictor of the same pale green. Her hair - 18 feet of it - is silken black and straight.

She is as large as Iamanu, some sixty feet long, and Her perfect upper torso is easily nine feet of that. She wears obviously magical jewelry: an emerald-studded, platinum crown with a faintly-glowing third eye; emerald earrings; an ebon collar with a jade intaglio of a serpent; on each arm, a platinum torc, bronze bracer, and ruby-studded finger gauntlet; around Her waist, a delicate platinum belt.

Chlodomer, utterly immune to fear, bows as one ruler to another, “My lady, they regrettably did not tell me you were so beautiful or I would have traveled faster.”

And She laughs, and the dread - of very similar feel to that of mummies - evaporates in an instant. Galswintha nervously slips a hand into her pouch, where it wraps itself tightly around an amethyst cylinder.

“I am Lady Jade the Undying. The degenerate thrass insist on applying the term king, but truly, I do little more than advise their Chief of Chiefs. My role here is as guardian, not ruler, and I have little interest in world affairs beyond ensuring the security of My guardianship.”

Vulfelind raises an eyebrow, “Does that mean that if we conquered this area, but left this place to you, you would not interfere?”

Jade, with a razor smile, “That depends entirely on what I think of you after this meeting.”

Is that a dungeon crawl looming ahead that I see?

Also, my favorite part:

Chlodomer: Her proper title, O Prince of Djinn, is Wizard, 12th Order.
Djinn: Oh.
Djinn, to Galswintha: My most abject apologies, Mistress. What is Your wish?

Yes. They almost managed to explore the first room before fleeing for their lives.

Session 38
Month 5, Continued
The Serpent King and the Order of the Grim Fist have a long discussion, in which both sides try to suss out the other without sussing themselves out too much.

  • Jade is a Servant of the Heron (*cough*necromancer*cough*). She may be 200 years old ("Jade the Beautiful" was a necromancer known to dabble in crossbreeding two centuries ago). She's probably not Chaotic. She's certainly not Lawful. She worships the Heron. She likes oaths. She can cast Quest. Merideth is very certain she's undead, and the heck with what the spells say.
  • Somewhere in the catacombs are three religious artifacts of importance to the Heron. Jade will allow adventurers to explore the catacombs and raid anything there, if they will agree to seek out and bring her these:
    • An emerald mirror which reflects (or shows) truth.
    • A scroll embedded in stone. "Only the worthy may remove it." Jade thinks she's probably worthy.
    • The petrified heart of the dragon Sekhmet.
  • She has mapped out three levels of the catacombs below. There is a barrier after that which "some magical creatures," including Jade, cannot cross. Merideth mutters "abominations, maybe," and Jade heard ... but only agrees that that may in fact be the criteria.
  • If they wish to go down into the catacombs, they must accept a Quest. She is willing to word the Quest to account for their domain duties.
  • Her pet (!) dragon is fond of the Chief of Chiefs. She is fond of her pet. She has no other interest in the lizardmen. NOBODY liked the two dragons the Grim Fist killed.

Merideth also casts commune, marking the first time in the history of the Grim Fist that a proper divination is used.

Merideth: Will Jade the Undying use the artifacts for evil?
Light: Maybe.
Merideth: Will I regret accepting Jade the Undying’s Quest?
Light: Yes.
Merideth: Will I regret not accepting Jade the Undying’s Quest?
Light: Yes.
Chlodomer: You do regret pretty much everything.
Merideth: …

And then divination … four times.

Merideth: Anything we should know about the catacombs?
Light: Too many things. Do not sleep beneath the ebon jackal.
Merideth: Anything we should know about Jade?
Light: The Heron’s servants cannot lie.
Merideth: Why can’t you tell me if Jade will use the artifacts for evil?
Light: That decision has not yet been made.
Merideth: Does that mean we could persuade Jade to the side of good?
Light: It means you should examine your assumptions.

And right before the meeting with Jade the following morning, Augury:

Merideth: The action is, I ask Jade if she’s undead.
Light: Neither good nor bad.

So Merideth asks … and Jade is undead and very matter-of-fact about it. She is also a catastrophic crossbreeding failure combined with some ritual magic failures. And much more conservative with magical experimentation these days, yes. Merideth gives Galswintha a meaningful look, which Galswintha blithely ignores.

Instead, Galswintha asks her how a cleric managed crossbreeding …

Servant of the Heron (*cough*Necromancer*cough*): HD 0, Fighting 0, Divine 1, Arcane 3.

Cast as divine spellcaster five levels lower. Cannot lie.
Cast as arcane spellcaster three levels lower.
Arms: club, dagger, sling; two-weapon fighting.
Armor: none.
No turn ability (1 custom; swapped for 1 at each of 3rd and 11th)
3rd: Secrets of the Dark Arts.
11th: After the Flesh.

The first three levels are pretty brutal - there’s a reason no more of them are around - but if a PC wanted to try it, I’d let 'em.


Galswintha sighs enviously. Merideth harumphs.

The Grim Fist huddles, but Vulfelind is the only voice of dissent (she’d rather see if they can find a way to sneak into the catacombs) and she eventually capitulates. They review the wording …

… and accept the Quest to focus their efforts in the catacombs on finding the artifacts for Jade the Undying, however much effort that is (i.e., they can retreat when they choose to retreat, and they only spend as much time as they decide, but any time spent in the catacombs must be put toward acquiring the artifacts).

The Grim Fist returns home to finish out their domain duties for the month, with intent to return a few days later to begin their exploration.

Month 6
Population 55,500, profits 223,000 gp. Galswintha creeps toward spelldancer.

Merideth completes her Resurrection research … and succeeds! The whole team breathes easier until she says, “Now to try to make one.” This project will complete at the end of month 7.

The Grim Fist does a reconnaissance of the first three levels - a quick peek in each room Jade said she cleared. The overall impression is of a large, three-story-high, arched hallway coupled with offices and warehouses on either side. It’s a bit bizarre, and they treat it carefully.

Then they survey the three presumed entrances to deeper levels:

  1. A straight stairwell, 40 feet wide and 30 feet long, which goes down 15 feet to a platform. Unlit, but another stairwell can just be seen past the platform. A curious-looking door is to the left of the platform. Vulfelind cautiously stealths down to the platform, then back up, reporting that the second set of stairs is the same as the first, but opens into a 40-foot-wide hall that stretches deep into darkness.

  2. A locked door. “Presumed” to be for the deeper entrances because it was protected by the same shield preventing Jade from entering the other entrances.

  3. A water well, 12 feet in diameter. They can see an indeterminate distance down before it is too dark. Vulfelind drops a glowing stone, which, at some greater but still indeterminate distance, briefly reveals a mass of coiled, writhing somethings, before a coil wraps around the stone and plunges the depth into darkness again.

Whatever keeps Jade out does not affect any member of the party, nor their companions, at the first entrance. No one volunteers to test the waters for the third. Vulfelind fails to pick the lock at the second, and they consider breaking the door down before returning to the stairs.

At the stairs, they stop briefly at the side-door, where Vulfelind again fails to pick the lock … so Chlodomer kicks the door in. Inside, what appears to be a walk-in closet with a rusted bucket, brooms, ancient lye, … a cleaning supplies closet!

Plus a (normal-sized) rat which disappears into a crack in the stones of the wall. Vulfelind unlocks the door from the other side, and reattaches it to the broken hinge. They move on and down, to the long, empty hall.

Another glowing stone is thrown via sling, and sails 200 feet down the corridor without meeting the end. Shadowed alcoves lay on either side for the entire length, roughly every 20-30 feet, some barred by portcullis, others open air. Footsteps echo oddly in the immense, underground Hall, punctuated by the occasional drip of water, but they push forward, retrieving and then throwing the stone again … and again.

After a thousand feet, and spotting and ignoring rusted and collapsed dwarven mechanisms scattered about, and the occasional tributary hall leading off, and the endless alcoves … Merideth stairs at her map.

“This isn’t a hall,” she whispers, “It’s a city street, lined by vendors.”

They remember the almost port-city feel of the offices and warehouses upstairs, and look more carefully at Merideth’s map … and indeed, if you built a port into the side of a cliff, it might resemble what has been drawn so far.

They check one of the alcoves: there is a cunning entrance, not secret but invisible from the front, which leads into a small set of apartments - one bed still intact here, a couch there - complete with a dozen ancient, dried corpses flopped here and there.

And as the Grim Fist is checking the back door, which appears to lead into a narrow, cramped back alley, the corpses begin to awkwardly jerk and stand up. They back out of the apartment in horror and slam the door shut.

On a lark, then, Vulfelind throws the glow stone back the way they came. It briefly illuminates a horde of silent, shambling undead before disappearing amidst the press of bodies.

Vulfelind, turning to Galswintha: I think I lost your rock.
Galswintha: I’ll make a new one.

Merideth attempts a turn undead on the closest shambling things, fully expecting them to powder … but they do not. The turning attempt is useful for something, however, granting Merideth two pieces of important knowledge:

  1. She is standing in a twice-shadowed region, forsaken by Lawful divinity.
  2. The crowd is animated by a single infernal spirit.

She turns and stares hard the other direction, into the dark. Just out of clear sight, there is motion. Slow. Silent. Shambling. The Grim Fist form a circle. The torch bearer is moved to the center. Weapons drawn, they prepare for the arriving horde.

They hear a few moaned syllables shared between the undead, and a sudden, stiff wind extinguishes the torch and plunges the party into darkness, save for a tiny radius from glowing weapons, and the ruddy glow just beginning to emanate from Galswintha’s mouth.

The corpses attack.

Dragon’s breath scours them. A seemingly invulnerable foxwoman dances death among the undead … until they change to grasping, and drag her away into the darkness. The gold-and-white warrior, strong as a giant, rushes to save her, leaving the elfmaid and the Church Knight to defend the torch bearer as he struggles to light the torch.

The elf maid makes an unladylike sound, turns … and teleports the torch bearer to safety. The undead take advantage of the momentary lapse in dragon fire, and lay hands on knight and maid both, dragging them off.

Chlodomer strikes down those dragging Vulfelind off, and both sprint back … but Galswintha and Merideth are gone.

Galswintha’s mouth is held shut, with her hand held in place over her lips. Merideth’s holy symbols are torn away and clatter to the floor. Both are dragged to a bloated, monstrous corpse being used to house the spirit’s central self. It titters at them, undisguised glee in its eyes, and the whispered moans seem to form words: “We will have such fun, you and we.”

Galswintha breathes her third dragon fire. Through lips and teeth. Through fingers and palm. It washes over Legion’s central corpse, and the corpse turns to ash and charred bone in an instant. Then she falls over, the shock and pain too much for her.

Fortunately, the corpses around the two (and everywhere else) also fall, as a reddish mist erupts from the remains of the central corpse and moves toward one of the other corpses.

Merideth takes it all in with a glance. Her holy symbol is a dozen paces away; she won’t make it. She lifts Galswintha and runs for her life, shouting for the others.

The Grim Fist reunite and flee together, as the collapsed corpses begin to stand up again - back up the stairs, past the barrier, into Jade’s lair.

Jade the Undying looks at them curiously as they arrive, and Merideth states, flatly, “The barrier isn’t to keep you out. It’s to keep them in.” They keep an eye out, but the corpses do not come within sight.

Galswintha is healed, but her face and right hand are a ruin; restore life & limb repairs the damage, but leaves her needing weeks of bed rest. This puts her work on the Stone Charm to complete in month 10.

The party decides to take the rest of the month off as well, and attend to suddenly urgent administrative matters while they best consider their next actions.

Amazing! Great story. I love the casting of Dragon Breath through her own closed mouth and hand. Talk about desperation.

Jade, Servant of the Heron, is a great NPC.

Session 39
OOC:

So.

The Grim Fist has cleared and secured about 40 hexes at this point (they have over 60, but many of those were “freebies” from the dwarven highway), and over 200 lairs, although a lot of the lairs were handled with “typical” results. It was a lot of fun, but … once the realm starts to get to the size it is, each lair offers substantially less of a high. Especially when it’s the umpteenth ogre village.

That ACKS made the fun last as long as it did is a testament, but at this point, the hex clearing is a chore on both sides of the Judge’s screen.

Also, I’ve been doing magical research wrong, abstracting it in months rather than actually adding up the days involved. This has given the casters in the group a major edge over the non-casters in “what gets done.”

So we’re doing some revision: paring back one unintended house rule, and adding an intended one.

  1. Magical research cannot be performed during a week that hex clearing, dungeon delving, or similar major tasks takes place. Each month has four weeks (and two interstitial “non-week” days).

  2. On average, a single proper hex lair takes the Grim Fist a day of prep, a half-day of activity (including travel), and one day of resource and hit point recovery, although they’ve managed significantly more (and less). For each week devoted to lair clearing, then, they can clear 1d6-1 lairs. For each lair, the treasure is determined by 1d10+1d8-2: 0 is None, 1 is A, and so on. Q & R hoards can never be found this way - only “interesting” lairs and dungeons have them!

If the whole party does not participate, the lairs cleared is reduced by -1 per missing party member.

XP for cleared lairs is a flat 1,200 + treasure, divided normally.


Summer, Months 7, 8, and 9

Population 64,000 profits (total) 855,000 gp. Vulfelind begins throwing the syndicate profits into the party gold pile.

Galswintha achieves Elven Spelldancer 11!
Chlodomer achieves Aristocrat 13! His personal domain’s value goes up by one at the end of Summer.

Summer has 13 weeks. The party expends 3 on lairs and clears 13 lairs (after party XP division, they end up with 6,000 XP each). They successfully clear five hexes (#0705, #0706, #1311, #1603, #1604).

They also dedicate 1 week to Jade’s catacombs (covered after everything else).

Chlodomer, the Blue Duke of Galaufabonne, receives a visit from Iamanu at the beginning of Summer, bearing three tidings:

  • Notice that Chlodomer will be requested to serve as adjudicator on Iamanu's behalf, in Iamanu's domain, for the three months of Fall. (This will take up two weeks of each month.)
  • Iamanu noticed that the tepui far to the west had new construction. This is most excellent! Please ensure that there is a stronghold sufficient to hold the tepui entire soon - i.e., one worth roughly 45,000 gp.
  • An ancient, elven mithril sword. Iamanu knows that it is ancient, because it was ancient when he - a youth at the time - took it from the hoard of another dragon. And in the dragon's mind, at least, the sword "pays" for the required stronghold.

When Chlodomer draws the sword to examine it, it flares, briefly, as bright as the sun, and the leaf pattern on the hilt … is now also visible as a silver-gilded tattoo wrapping his right hand and wrist.

A voice sounds in bright tones: “I am she called Tears of the Willow, rightly feared by the unrighteous. Cast aside that nameless trash, that I may inflict grief and despair upon all who dare your wrath in battle!”

Chlodomer, knowing that Galswintha has been practicing with swordplay, lends her his dwarven kukri. She makes big, big eyes at him and suggests that maybe she should have elf-forged Tears of the Willow, and he could keep the nameless dwarf sword, but he points at his new tattoo, “Sorry, I think it likes me.”

Chlodomer also devotes some time to hand-managing merchant caravans.

Merideth completes two resurrections, binding them into diamonds. She gives them both to Galswintha, saying, “You expended one such as these to save and restore my mentor. I thank you, and hope these find as good a use in your hands.”

Merideth also oversees some upgrades to the temples scattered about the realm, and re-organizes her Knights slightly to take vassalage of the newly cleared hexes, and promote a few promising squires for adventuring.

Galswintha’s fairy settlement, Oak Spring City, boasts a Class IV market … if just. The neighboring human settlement has swelled to Class V on the strength of gnomish and pixie goods.

Vulfelind, Beggar Queen of Bone Temple, sets up two smaller syndicates in Oak Spring City (Galswintha’s Class IV Galaufchulis settlement, run by a gnome named Gibble, with 50 members) and Fey Dale (Galswintha’s adjacent Class V human settlement, run by a greek thief from Iamanu’s realm named Abraxas, with 30 members), sets her people to spying on Atanung and Orléans, and begins working on hiring ruffians of all sorts to fill out her ranks.

Bone Temple is now larger than Atanung and just barely smaller than Orléans. This creates a rousing trade in silk (Orléans -3, Bone Temple -3, Atanung +2) and ivory (Orléans +2, Bone Temple +0, Atanung +1). Since there is no obvious source of ivory, we rename that to “Galaufchulis bark.” The Bone Temple Syndicate of the Beggars’ Guild has 559 members by the end of summer.

Catacombs of the Serpent King

Chlodomer arranges a meeting with Jade the Undying, and she resolutely refuses to put resources towards assisting them - they have not proven themselves worth the risk yet. Leaving the stairway alone, they return to the door Vulfelind failed to unlock during the Spring.

It isn’t locked.

They check the nearby rooms, but nothing has moved in. The dust on the floor still shows only their footprints from the previous month and now.

Chlodomer cautiously opens the door, Merideth blesses him, and he steps in.

Nothing happens.

A sigh of relief and the party and henches trek in. It is a reasonably long hallway, with fourteen doors on each side and a double-door at the far end: only one near the entrance is locked, the others open into inn rooms. Galswintha wizard-eyes the locked room, and stares at a similar inn room through the eyes of a rat. Nothing in the room moves, and no corpses are visible from the rat’s position.

Vulfelind: It’s a trap.
Chlodomer: The door or the room?
Vulfelind: No, I mean demon mist corpse unlocked front door, hid here. We go deeper, it locks stuff behind us, horde shows up, everyone dies.
Galswintha: Except me. I can teleport.
Wordthief: And me. I’m a sword.

The party ponders this for a bit, then stake the bedroom door shut, and shove a pair of beds from one of the other inn rooms to block it further.

When they open the double doors at the end, they see a truly odd thing. A 15x15 foot room, with one wall taken up with a series of large gears, and a gearbox labeled with an odd dialect of dwarven. There are no exits, and Vulfelind examines the room carefully.

The most important thing she finds: the entire room is an automaton of some sort, and it is not firmly attached to the walls around it. Galswintha’s apprentice, Adalswinda, burns a spell to read the labels. In order is written:

The Light The Messenger The Lover The Mother The Warrior The Gardener The King The Merchant The Father The Shadow

They puzzle over that for a while, and then Chlodomer copies down two of the labels and steps outside for a bit … checking the walls and doors for symbols.

When he returns, he’s smiling, “It’s a method for moving between floors. We’re the third from the top.”

With no other options deeper, they review Jade’s map in silence, trying to line up her scribbles with reality, before Merideth finally points, “Here. There must have been a secret door Jade and we missed.”

Chlodomer harumphs, “Well, we were rushed.”

Vulfelind, pusher of buttons, states loudly and clearly, “The Light.”

The room rocks slightly, the doors lock, and with a faint grinding squeak, the room begins its ascent. A bell rings. The doors unlock.

Catacombs Level One
Cautiously, the Grim Fist step out, then all but Merideth suffer a choking fit from the dust and charnal ash they’ve stirred.

Within the dim, flickering torch, they can see charred walls and torched corpses in a hall much like the one they just left: presumably a series of inn rooms. The corpses within sight stand awkwardly, and gleaming eyes betray more in the darkness beyond.

Unfortunately for the boogie man, the Grim Fist has had time to think since the last time they faced this particular threat.

A gout of dragons’ breath clears a path and the Grim Fist charge down the hall, Vulfelind running point to find the center, Chlodomer close behind to chop down those who get too close to her. The mist-bloated corpse is easy to spot, and Vulfelind tackles and pins it while Merideth and her two accompanying Knights laboriously sprint the distance to get in range.

And then dispel evil, from Merideth and both Knights. The red mist fails to resist one, and erupts from its host corpse in a vain escape attempt … before divine wrath shreds it to nothingness.

A hundred or so bodies fall to the floor.

Merideth begins cremation rites.

They go room by room, turning the few remaining undead (all more normal) and wiping out those who survive the initial divine force with brute steel.

The restaurant at the end of the hall is the worst, with two demonic corpse legions working in tandem to puppet hundreds of former staff and customers … and careful to keep their visibly bloated bodies out of reach. Here, Chlodomer, Haramer, and the polearm squad form a beheading machine, until they manage to get the Knights close enough for dispel evil.

One of the red mists erupts from its host just before that happens, abandoning its companion to the Knights and fleeing faster than most can follow.

Except Vulfelind. She sprints furiously ahead of it, skids to a stop and turns, brings Wordthief high over her head, and shouts “I wishes that Wordthief could blast evil on impact!”

… and as she brings the sword down through the red mist, the sword flashes bright. The red mist releases a screeching sound and tatters to nothing.

… and then Vulfelind looks dazed. She had discussed this type of wish with Wordthief, but it had been theoretical - Wordthief had not been prepared for the emotional impact the action would have.

At last, he had a worthy master. At last, he had an imaginative master. Someone he could serve. Someone he wanted to serve. Someone who would put his name in legend.

And so he connects telepathically with his new master for the first time, granting her insight into his abilities and workings.

Blast Evil: As dispel evil, but with range 0', affects a single target, and must make a successful attack. Divine 3.

Wordthief, shortsword +1, luck blade (4 wishes), holy avenger (blast evil on striking once per day, must be declared), sentient (INT 12, EGO 6, WIL 19; AL N; can detect enemies, evil, and good; telepathy 3/day as helm of telepathy)


Vulfelind sits down, abruptly, amidst scattered tables and chairs to contemplate her new partner.

Wyrmtooth: Does this mean I have to leave?
Wordthief: … Only if you want to, old friend.

And then it’s back to business. Cremation rites. Clearing the rooms.

And when they find the Altar holding this floor hostage, they break and bless it, and then Merideth uses her last dispel evil to cleanse the floor entirely.

They search thoroughly, and finally find the secret door Jade missed, and return to her lair.

Jade: How go your efforts?
Chlodomer: AUGH.
Jade: …?
Chlodomer: I have to tell you that there is a secret door deeper in that might not block you.
Jade: !

The secret door does not block Jade, and she races through the restaurant and then hall … but the moving room still blocks her: she gets no further.

Jade: I suppose I will have to continue to rely on you. Thank you.

Catacombs Level Two
The party rests for a day to recover spells, then flicks The Messenger. The same shake and grinding squeak, and then the doors open. Another “inn room hall” faces them … but there are no bodies, nor dust, nor the faintest sign that anything once lived here. Even the doors and hinges, torch-brackets, and tiniest bits of metal have been carefully removed from the cold, stone walls.

The party cautiously tosses a glow stone down the corridor. It illuminates nothing.

With Chlodomer and Merideth at point, the Grim Fist march in as quietly as they are able … and several hundred feet in, an avalanche of slime, a vivid pulsing green and awakened from ancient slumber, falls from the ceiling to digest everything that isn’t stone.

The clerics cure disease on themselves first, wiping out a small patch, while Galswintha immolates herself free. Chlodomer shrieks for his beloved armor before Merideth kills the parasite.

Vulfelind, unarmored and unprotected, loses a sizable chunk of flesh to slime before a Knight reaches her with the cure and healing. Moist sound come from the now-active ceiling as green slimes, now awake, slowly try to maneuver themselves over the party.

Merideth: I don’t have enough cure disease for that.
Galswintha: Oh, but I do.

The elfmaid flies to the ceiling and sights along the edge, then breathes a gout of flame, clearing 90 feet - the party sprints, and as she reaches more slime, she breathes a second time, then lands and runs.

After that, it is fireballs, staggered along the ceiling and wiping out whole ecologies of green slime until they make it back to the doors.

From that point of safety, Galswintha breaks out her wand of fireballs, and with two divinely ordained Knights to guard against accidents, begins working her way down the hall, clearing the ceiling of slime, before finishing with her own spells when the wand runs dry.

The entire level is empty save for the slime and a few gems. No coin or good survived, not even an altar is available to smash.

They take two days to recover - mostly for Vulfelind’s healing - and set the catacombs aside for Fall.

Demon Legionaire

Demon Legionaire: AC 10*, Move fly 150', HD 12**** (54 hp), attack ghoul paralysis and energy drain 2; gaseous form; immune to mind-affecting and poisons; half damage from magic; immune to fire; regenerate 3 hp/round. SV F12, ML +0, AL C. XP 4,800 + 13 per animated corpse. Treasure: Mx2.

Demon legionaires can possess a corpse, losing their gaseous form, but gaining a bash 1d10 attack which inflicts ghoul paralysis and energy drain 2. While possessing a corpse, they can simultaneously “puppet” up to 120 HD of corpses around themselves as zombies or skeletons. The puppets are not particularly strong, but cannot be Turned or destroyed unless the demon legionaire would be.

Demon legionaires are almost never found outside of the most horrible sinkholes of evil - they usually require a Chaos altar and substantial death to maintain their tenuous grasp on this plane of existence.

They Turn as infernal creatures, because that is what they are.

More powerful demon legionaires exist. Each HD above 12 grants one level of mage spell-casting ability, but they can only cast while possessing a corpse. They can puppet a number of HD of corpses equal to their HDx10.

Demon legionaires hate everything, including each other, but will sometimes work together against a greater threat.

Galswintha’s desparate gamble was a pretty awesome moment.

I’m glad someone likes Jade (grin).

Just wanted to say that, as a 4e and narrative game fan, this thread got me to lay down $20 for the pdfs of both the core book and the Player’s Companion. So massive kudos to the first description of a game that actually made me interested in anything OSR.